Identity (a Mass Effect fanfiction)

Aaron

The stars above him were going by in a blur. The Normandy was moving fast through space, fuel an insignificant expense as far as Cerberus was concerned. The Illusive Man wanted quick action, and Aaron Shepard was happy to provide.

But not tonight. Tonight he was glad to be sitting here on the couch in his quarters, feet in his old scuffed boots stretched out on the table in front of him, glass of fine Earth-made bourbon in hand, head tilted back, looking up at the stars.

It was almost like those meltingly hot summer nights in Tulsa when he was a kid, lying on the roof of the abandoned building he lived in with a score of other kids, outcasts and orphans just like him. They'd go up to the roof for any possible hint of coolness, a little breeze, any relief from the muggy Oklahoma summer, and they'd lie there and look up at the stars. They'd pretend that they were going to go there someday, but deep down, none of them really believed anyone actually lived up there, or flew amongst the stars in smooth, sleek ships. Just like none of them really believed they'd ever had parents, or a home of their own. Nearly all the group was made up of street kids who had little to no memory of being anything else.

Shepard took a swallow of the bourbon, holding it in his mouth and then letting it slide down his throat, burning as it went but carrying a glow of warmth after it. Why was he thinking about Tulsa tonight? He hadn't given any consideration to those long-ago days in years.

It must have been the krogan. What a burst of adrenaline that had been, facing down a newly-hatched krogan, full-grown and mindless with rage. He'd let himself be pushed up against the wall, but when it seemed the krogan wouldn't back off, Shepard had shot him through the stomach. He'd regenerated, of course, and with a hell of a lot more respect than he'd had before. Yes, Shepard thought the decision to awaken the krogan would turn out well in the long run. And then, to have it name itself Grunt ... well, that was the irony, wasn't it? Because Shepard might as well have been tank-bred, and his first name had been Grunt—the only one he'd had for as long as he could remember.

They were all called Grunt, the little ones. Because Eno, the loud-mouthed older kid who led the gang, didn't want to bother learning their names, and because he was obsessed with old war vids from the 20th century. That was half the reason they had electricity in the building, thieving and scrapping and diving in dumpsters for credits or anything they could sell for credits in order to keep the lights on and the movies running. Eno said half the grunts died or disappeared anyway, so what was the point of them having names?

The little Grunt with the black hair and the always-serious face listened to Eno, and he watched the vids, and he believed everything he was told. He didn't know any better—he'd been in this gang for as long as he could remember. He was one of the lucky ones: fast enough to outrun the police officers who tried to pick them up, sharp-eyed enough to stay out of danger, and too intimidated by adults to get in cars with the smiling, pretty-smelling women and well-dressed jocular men who occasionally enticed others of the smaller children away. Eno said they did terrible things to the grunts they took, and little Grunt believed him. Some of the other older children said those fancy people took the little ones home and gave them soft beds and good meals ... but few of the older children stayed for long. Eno was too jealous of his authority (and, in retrospect, too soft to really put up a good fight) to allow any potential rivals to remain in the gang.

The next oldest right now was a girl named Rachel, who insisted on being called by her name. She was a sassy one, with red hair she wore in neat, careful braids. Unlike most of the others, Rachel had a parent still living—her father was a spacer, on a long-term assignment with the Alliance. She laughed at the others when they said it was a lie, and her father was really in jail. She believed he was coming back for her someday, and for that, the others laughed at her.